Primal Promise

Twelve*

Basking in the warmth of the sun, the soft grass underfoot like the thickest shag carpet, the air heavy and oxygen-rich as only the places near great forests were, she could feel the tension seeping out with every step. She was reminded of one of her temp jobs.

Just out of college she had worked at one of those companies that bought people's 'spare' gold. It was very common for packages to come with necklaces all tangled into a single knot. The man who ran the place had a trick, where he would set the necklaces in a shallow pan of baby oil, then, with a pair of fine knitting needles, work the knots out until each necklace could be laid out straight and smooth. Then a quick wash and they could be graded and weighed.

Her mind, so tangled with concerns and confusion, was now oiled up by the change of scenery, and she could begin to unkink her thoughts.

The feeling of being a third wheel, something she'd been very worried about, had yet to rear its head. Jaris was a wonderful hostess, and she really did find herself liking the woman. The obvious affection between her and her husband, her children, the whole family, in fact, was alien to CJ. She had dreamed of such a world, but to see it for herself, to feel, even tangentially, that she was a part of it, was enjoyable.

The Aldwins had been an exception. They were not unkind, far from it. Just disconcerting. She thought back to the night at Diamond Lake. To the ride back to the resort. She knew that she'd not spoken at all, much less given the woman a name her aunt had to browbeat her into never using. How had she known where to take her? Why had she said to go home where it was safe? The woman was a mystery that CJ wasn't sure she wanted to investigate.

The fields gave way to forest soon enough, and she noted the path here was wide and well-used. She could see the tracks of horses along it. Even with her well-known lack of any sense of direction at all, she'd have to work pretty hard to get lost out here.

The tall fir trees spread out overhead, making the path a shady and cool respite from the sun. She could hear soft splashing and followed the sound. The bottle in hand opened, the cool water sipped as she meandered, taking her time and soaking up the bucolic surroundings.

Just to the left of the path, a few yards away, a small pond drew her eye. The calm surface rippled around the spot where spring water ran down a pile of stones to feed it. The sun was peeking through the boughs, leaving glints to sparkle on the water's surface, the world around her greener, richer, than she thought natural.

She thought, for a moment, about the story whose moral was to never leave the path, but she doubted there were any wolves around, and her hood was navy blue, not red. She stripped off her denim jacket and folded it, setting it on the ground at the base of a particularly wide tree and slid down, making it into a protective layer between her and the rough bark and pine-strewn floor.

She pulled her hoodie up and tucked her hair in to protect it as she leaned back, her legs stretched out before her, hands folded in her lap. Somewhere in the distance, a woodpecker rapped smartly against a tree, the wind stirred the canopy of leaves, birds chirped back and forth. It was a fine spot for contemplation.

What would it have been like to be raised like Maggie? A brother or sister to simultaneously torment and have fun with, loving parents, a big extended family? She sighed faintly, wondering then what it might have been like if her parents had lived. They seemed so happy in that picture.

It was a moot point. She got the upbringing she did and that couldn't be changed now. Still, she could think of the future. If someday, she had kids, she'd want them to have the kind of life she never had herself. Lots of siblings, or at least friends, with whom they could play and grow up and have a feeling of kinship.